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The borders of the swordsman’s vision rippled into waves that mimicked the rise and fall of the voice he was sure seemed to spout instructions towards him — though he paid no mind. The words were there of course, though they’d long since been pushed out of his focus. Tecchou instead, felt more intrigue towards the picture of the man he gathered as material to the solo mission he was now being assigned.
The man framed upon the whiteboard of the meeting room didn’t hold a necessarily stark expression, per se, though his countenance held its severity in double the scale. His lips pulled into a light smile, a malicious undertone to the mock kindness he seemed to exhibit, like a fox, Tecchou noted. He had somewhat soft features, the swordsman felt was the word; high yet not quite sharp cheekbones, his jaw was delicate, chin narrow and complimentary to the entirety of his facial structure.
There was a certain warmth to the criminal’s image, whilst Tecchou understood the deceit it must have hidden, it was undeniable. The most striking thing of all to Tecchou however, was the white and red colour of his hair, seemingly complete with the way a crimson-threaded earring hung from his ear, with a bell attached. The brune knew this man was dangerous, he’d been informed before that he wasn’t to underestimate the individual. Saigiku Jouno, a criminal executive of a near prestigious organisation. This man was the thread tying it together, whilst not even the overseer, and he let such a thread hang ever so loosely. Little messages were frequent in their passing over to the military, mostly jeering in nature. Plans were spilled, perhaps to heighten his own enjoyment. He felt he couldn’t be caught. Jouno was a scheming individual, everyone knew, the man was not to be undervalued. Tecchou knew this too, of course. But he wasn’t scared of the man, he in actually found him to be quite—
“Tecchou, are you listening?”
Tecchou’s reality soon resonated with him again, as did he blink at the now clear words spoken to him when a ruler was jabbed at the bridge of his nose. A girl with rose pink hair, almost half his height stood upon the glass table now, glaring daggers into him. His vice-commander. Teruko Ookura.
“I am.” Tecchou replied, flatly.
“No you’re not.” She retorted.
“I’m not.. no.”
“Wow you piss me off. I’ll explain again in simpler terms because I’m so understanding,” Teruko walked back down to the bulletin board, pointing up again to the man’s picture alongside the documents pinned to the board, “this is your target, as you’ve gathered after staring at the fucker for so long. Everything you need to know is in the documents I’m going to give you, if you fail in retrieving him alive then you’ll suffer a fate worse than he ever will from yours truly, capiche?”
She tapped the documents with the metre ruler, tearing them from the pin as opposed to properly removing them before she smacked the papers upon the desk in front of Tecchou, who leaned forward in perplexity. A brief skim-read was enough for him, too many words, he understood the place to be and that he wasn’t to kill the perpetrator, that’d be enough.
“Understood, I won’t fail.”
“I should hope not!” She asserted, stopping at the doorway to add one more comment, “I want him alive, might I emphasise for a second time.”
Tecchou stood, nodding before she left. It was his first mission. At least in such a position as this. Formerly, a few months prior, Tecchou was enlisted into the military, and quite expectedly he soared. Before he knew it, he was admitted to a newly formed division of skilled ability users — tasked with taking on the most dangerous of criminals.
The brune hadn’t thought too much of the new position, though he was of course regarded with much respect from his peers because of such a ‘promotion’. Though, all Tecchou really knew of was hearsay, he never opted to talk to anyone, he’d speak if spoken to. Interaction in such a workplace as this never felt the highest of his priorities. He existed to purge society of its impurities. That was his job. That was the job of the people he worked with too. Ergo, Tecchou had never seen reason to query into the lives of those with such benevolence as he.
—
Tecchou quirked an eyebrow as he looked at the entrance to the bar up and down. It appeared rather atypical for a man with heightened senses to meander at such a place willingly. Perhaps it was part of a ploy, he presumed, and Tecchou welcomed this scheme with open arms. His entrance warranted too many stares to be comfortable with, even despite the busyness of the place, he knew that regardless of the fact that he stuck out, the attention he needed would be garnered if the man he sought for was truly here. Voices competed with the clamorous music that influenced the stuffy air as Tecchou stepped through into the most clustered part of the establishment, knowing that if he couldn’t find this Saigiku Jouno, Tecchou would most certainly be found first. The fact didn’t bother him, Tecchou was taller, generally bigger than the target, more physically versed.
He wasn’t afraid at all. And the way that Tecchou had so nonchalantly made his way into the bar only showed this. It was sure to thoroughly piss off a man who worked so hard to be feared by all, the swordsman gathered
Something about the air was different, however. The lights danced in their various flickerings, and he was bemused as to how nobody paid mind to such a thing. It was almost as if there were seconds in which the darkness swallowed the building, preparing for opportunity, Tecchou was yanked back in an instant, unable to reach his sword as his hands instead reflexively pried at lithe fingers that all of a sudden had wrapped around his neck.
His eyes widened, and the way he was perpetually shoved back and forth by the unconcerned who paid no mind to his predicament only heightened his inability to regain composure and stand his ground. Tecchou felt the closure of his airways nearing as ragged breaths left him, his tunnelling peripheral vision allowing sight of the man that leaned over his shoulder, a slight jingling noise accompanying his movement — the realisation Tecchou came to felt like a kick in the stomach.
“I’m slightly embarrassed? Sending such personified incompetence to fight me.. hurts my feelings a little.” The man tutted.
Tecchou felt his heart stutter, and it was almost as if his target laughed at that.
“Say bye-bye, Tecchou Suehiro!” Jouno mused, tittering at his own words as he heard Tecchou’s heart sink again to the pit of his stomach in response to his own name.
The brune’s arms slacked at his side for a moment, to which Jouno hummed in scepticism. Surely the fool knew Jouno could tell he was conscious judging by the still heightened pulse present in his neck. A huff of air escaped Jouno, hands loosening reflexively as he spared himself to laugh at the other man up until the repugnant smell of blood attacked his senses. And much to his dismay, it was his own .
Jouno’s mouth opened slightly, recoiling immediately as he felt over the gash atop his hand that he’d only just assessed. Tecchou’s hand had reached his sabre, and from that, the sword seemed to acquire a mind of its own — having snaked around, cutting deep into his skin. The man hadn’t even noticed such a thing had occurred at the speed in which it did.
“Oh dear.” He smiled at the peculiar way of retaliation as his body dematerialised when Tecchou spun around to continue the abrupt assault.
The executive soon disappeared into the crowd, veiling himself in the chaos. Tecchou was now far more attentive to his situation, pushing himself through the masses of people. So that was the man’s ability. He could split his body up into little particles. Untouchable.
Tecchou knew now that both of them were at an equal disadvantage. Jouno’s senses wouldn’t be able to separate Tecchou from the crowds, the smell and noise probably overwhelmed him, and the swordsman had no clarity on where the man was. The fight would go stale if the two remained there, hence why the brune followed in suit of the backdoor he watched click open amidst the people he pushed past.
The back entrance let out into the beginning of a small alleyway. He wasn’t as streetwise as Jouno here, they both knew. Jouno got to pick the field, and Tecchou was made to adapt. The brune scanned the new visuals he was offered, no sight of his target upfront, yet this time Tecchou understood what that meant.
The swordsman spun on his heel in an instant to meet the other who appeared just as before, the similarities of the attack in comparison to the first seemed almost like a jab at Tecchou’s intelligence. Tecchou rammed his sword into the air again, soon realising that the ‘attack’ he calculated was feigned when a sharp pain in his back caused him to stumble forwards. Everything about the fight seemed humiliatory, especially when Tecchou considered that he wielded a sword, and was outmanoeuvred by that of a kitchen knife.
It wasn’t that big of an issue regarding his tolerance to the injury, and Tecchou’s retaliation would have been a success if the object wasn’t kicked further into his back — the brune almost fell forwards onto his knees, before he was spun around by the man he hadn’t the chance to properly assess in person before.
That same grin within the picture glorified Jouno’s features, and he positioned an arm around the brune’s waist as to keep him from falling back onto the injury again and damaging him further. Jouno held Tecchou as if he were a vase adorned with the most delicate of flowers, it was entirely humiliating , again. Tecchou only had a moment to consider his circumstances, bleary eyed as he desperately attempted to steady his breathing, which he wasn’t sure if it wavered in response to the injury or Jouno’s presence in itself.
“Now, Tecchou. I’ve heard a lot about you, I don’t want you to disappoint. I’ll perceive this as an off day. Next time I’ll kill you.”
“I will tear down those who contaminate the peace that the people deserve—” Jouno’s words went completely ignored as Tecchou heaved out his moral standing, soon cut off by the other who huffed at such impertinence.
“God you’re weird. You have a lovely voice though, if only you used it to speak sense.” Jouno commented.
Tecchou hadn’t much thought towards his vulnerability, up until he squeezed his eyes shut when he felt Jouno move closer to him, bracing for another blow of some sorts — though much to his utmost shock, the brune suddenly felt that warmth he saw within the picture that he put so much doubt in. The warmth of his target’s lips against his. It felt as if Jouno parted as soon as he met the other, and Tecchou so nearly chased the man back. Though instead, Tecchou simply gaped at the criminal, swallowing thickly in the horror that enveloped his consciousness when he truly considered what had happened.
Jouno rubbed a blood covered thumb over the swordsman’s cheek, smearing the deep red over his skin before he sighed, in near disappointment.
“Red doesn’t suit you too well, a shame.”
The brune’s head reeled, and he practically let the man throw him around as he was turned around again, having been let go only for his fatigue to drag him face forward into the cold concrete floor, thoughts slipping from his mind — consciousness wavering. He felt himself sink into the growing pool of his own blood, trying so desperately to wrap his head around the inconceivable.
Jouno knelt beside him for a moment, a finger jutting across the ridges of his spine before he hummed in interest.
“They’ll come retrieve soon. Were you aware of these silly little trackers implemented with your surgeries? I most certainly wasn’t. How interesting.”
Tecchou so desperately wanted to reply, though could only manage a groan as his consciousness finally slipped, vision falling into the darkness that he reluctantly welcomed at the rate his mission collapsed.
—
“He made a complete fool of you! You’re supposed to be more physically strong than him, why on earth would you give him the time to think? ” Teruko queried.
Tecchou didn’t reply. He couldn’t tell if the question was rhetorical or not, and he didn’t want to make a second failure of himself.
“It’s not your fault entirely however.. I guess the ambiguity of a mission was a setback, would you say, Commander Fukuchi?”
“Well, I’d certainly say I expected more after you’d raised how skilled he was..” Fukuchi barely had time to comment before Teruko had cut in again.
“I understand entirely commander, please have faith in my judgement! It was probably an unfair fight, right Tecchou? Don’t you think the fight was unfair? I’ll take up the mission if you want me to!”
Fukuchi waved a hand in front of his face, dismissing the idea, his nervous laughter crucifying the awkward atmosphere only further. Tecchou soon felt his commander’s gaze fall upon him — though, it wasn’t intimidating, but the swordsman straightened his posture nonetheless, tipping his head upwards only slightly.
“I won’t set you a mission like that again, it was a wrong decision to make. Don’t beat yourself up too much over it, I’m sure you won’t.”
That was what caught Tecchou’s attention, proved by the way his eyes averted to his commander immediately.
“I want to complete the mission.” He spoke.
“It’s too late for that now, you’re lucky the injury wasn’t too severe.. the augmentation surgeries are great, but not that reliable.” Teruko commented.
Tecchou merely stared through his vice commander again. He didn’t progress as much as he had done just to fail now. He wouldn’t take such an option, especially not after being subject to such indignity from his target. The brune shook his head as he stood, preparing for his leave.
“You’re dismissed for today, Tecchou.”
He waved a hand in what seemed to be understanding as he left, though with the knowledge of his current thought process, it was his dismissal of her words more than anything. Tecchou was still so utterly astounded. Writing the report of what happened was just as irritating too — of course he skipped the unnecessary details. Yet the ‘unnecessary details’ seemed to be the only thing Tecchou replayed in his mind, no matter how foggy it was. Tecchou had never experienced anything like that before.. not in those circumstances. He could barely believe that the criminal he was instructed to capture alive ended up kissing him and leaving him on the cold floor of an alleyway.
It was infuriating. Tecchou wouldn’t let such a thing disrupt the mission again, he’d prove his abilities.
—
Tecchou knew exactly where to find the man again. The exact same alleyway as before. The swordsman had gathered that Jouno was a cunning man, fond of his ability to create melodrama from anything. No way would Jouno pass up the opportunity to fulfil his idealised scenario. The brune had barely known the man for twenty minutes, and he still felt so strongly that it was enough for him to understand the demeanour Jouno flaunted.
With his arrival, Tecchou’s sword remained sheathed. He wished to frustrate the executive — the weak point Tecchou had asserted over him was Jouno’s confidence in his own ability. Plum Blossoms in Snow was far faster than any human reaction. And the speed of Priceless Tears was determined by that raw reaction alone. The swordsman knew this much, now. Jouno wasn’t strong, he relied on the element of surprise to counter people, he preferred to work in independence because his approach was sporadic, dramatised in fashion.
“I’d find it boring if I were to attack you in the same way every time, wouldn’t you?” That all too familiar voice spoke up as Tecchou turned around, sword unmoving still. There was a hint of genuinity in the question.
“Why’s that?” Tecchou hummed in response.
Jouno spread his arms, making a scene of his entrance as he spoke.
“I just don’t think that’d be very fair on you! It’d be a shame for me to have to rub your face into a puddle of your own innards every time we fought.”
“A very bold assumption to make that there will be more times after this.”
Tecchou barely finished the sentence before his sword snapped free from the sheathe, into his hand as it shot forward, skimming and tearing Jouno’s attire. The poor aim was almost a warning to Jouno. Tecchou was here to play Jouno’s game now, and oh did Jouno revel in the thought of such a challenge.
“You’ve ruined my clothes!”
“Soon to be the least of your worries?” Tecchou prompted with a shrug, darting forwards again.
He’d ensured not to let on too much about his ability, unlike Jouno. Tecchou couldn’t afford that. The executive was quick-witted, too perceptive to be underestimated. Who could tell if Jouno even already knew the extent of his ability. As soon as Jouno materialised into a closeness Tecchou could surprise him with, the sword tip shot upwards, changing in angles this time and catching the other’s lip as he staggered backwards. Rubbing the bottom of his now bleeding lip with the inside of his thumb, hand shaking a little as he did so, Jouno laughed bitterly as he immediately struck upwards into Tecchou’s palm with a small blade he’d slipped from his sleeve.
Tecchou hissed, pulling his hand away from the sudden assault as he also considered that alongside it, he’d disarmed Jouno. With the little time he gave himself to recover, his sword lunged forwards again, this time changing in angles after catching sight of where Jouno rematerialised — the criminal’s mouth hung open as he realised the direness of such a flaw. The sword shot right through his midsection last second.
The way he felt his skin tear in response was enough to leave him in shock, fearful anticipation building up in his expression. When the razor sharpness of the sword had left Jouno slightly bemused for a moment, he was unresponsive to the odd coolness of the blade he felt until his adrenaline finally caught up with the speed it had punctured his skin. The next searing pain he felt was the realisation. Aforementioned coldness was an unbearable heat that warranted the man to hyperventilate, though he groaned in pain as soon as he did. Jouno’s head tilted up at the other man in near dread as he wracked a painful heave of air from his lungs.
Almost retracting the blade, Tecchou shook his head, not daring to move. He was supposed to take Jouno back alive , if the blade was removed now, the chances Tecchou had of bringing the man back in one piece were far less than sparse.
“Don’t move.” Tecchou extended a hand reflexively, he was as shocked as Jouno was, in reality. He couldn’t fail the mission because his target died.
“Out– get your fucking sword OUT!” Jouno’s voice wavered with the demand.
It was clear to Tecchou now that the executive had the first hand battle experience of a child. He doubted Jouno ever had to fight, especially not with such an ability. He called the battles for others to fight, dictated them from the outside. His key feat was his wits combined with the ability to move . The reality being, Jouno was as fragile as his ego, which Tecchou had now seen crumble in an instant. The brune soon concluded that Jouno was someone who wore his faults like stolen medals, he flaunted his expertise until contradicted and he fumbled over explanation. The executive simply couldn’t cope with the reminder that he had visible flaws.
“I feel like you don’t succumb to injury very much–”
“Just get it out!”
“I can’t do that, I need you alive unfortunately.” Tecchou stifled a laugh.
The executive placed trembling hands around the blade, allowing a weak smile to crack as he threatened to pull the blade free.
“I wouldn’t.”
He ignored this, pulling the blade slightly forwards. Too far forwards. The stickiness of his own blood built up and fell over his hands and he wailed . Tecchou’s lips pressed into a thin line, patience running short of thread now. Jouno considered the remainder of the options he had, he now felt a pounding in his head, and the sword was halfway through. He activated his ability and stepped backwards off of the weapon, a noise somewhat resembling distress leaving him as he tried to regain his footing, hand now bloodied as he held the wound. Jouno felt the red river of his very essence seep from his mouth, trickling down his chin as it collected there.
“How ignorant, I told you not to do that–” Tecchou exhaled, moving to catch the perpetrator as his body slumped forwards into his arms.
The swordsman was quick to tear a section of his cape, wrapping it around the wound to break off the rush of blood as best as possible before he threw an arm around the back of the man’s legs, his other arm supporting his back as he pulled him off the ground. Much to Jouno’s dismay, his prepared complaints were cut off before he could even begin, a coughing fit leaving him as he curled in on himself in discomfort.
“Oww, ouch, stop it– don’t be so– ugh!”
“I think this is justified.” Tecchou frowned, heaving the man up and into his arms properly, “You’ve bloodied my sword..”
“Don’t manhandle me, Tecchou. ” The name was hissed out as if it were a curse never to be uttered before.
“Can you lie and tell your superiors or whatever that I almost won?”
“No.”
Jouno gasped, eyes squeezed shut in discomfort as he ached to correct his breathing again. And before he could do so or prepare a better reply, he hacked up a second torrent of blood, aiming the substance to splatter across his foe’s face. Tecchou sucked in a sharp breath, the defeat in his expression clear only now. The executive had the audacity to giggle at such a ‘victory’, his amusement disrupted by the coughing fit that awaited him, begging and pulling at his lungs for a hint of untainted air. Tecchou stood in partial disgust, and also disbelief. He couldn’t fathom how utterly shameless the man was. To kiss him, and then spit his innards in his face?
“Charming.” Tecchou scowled, wiping the cardinal fluid from his face as best he could.
“Thank you, I’m a man of many feats.”
“I’m sure my commander would love to hear them.”
“Oh, shut up .”
“Speak less please, I don’t want you to die right now.”
“Contrary to popular belief, I do not care what you wan–” Jouno whined from the sharp wave of pain that felt like a kick to the stomach, almost choking on his own blood for the second time.
“Don’t throw up please.”
“I might..” He grinned.
“Hilarious.”
“Wait no hold on, I'm serious, put me down I actually might–” he leaned his head over the brune’s arm, pushing himself away.
“Oh–”
Tecchou was versed in his training, though babying a grown man on the verge of bleeding out as he’s about to hurl was not on said list of specifics.
—
A trail of blood had followed the two into the building, as did the stench of such blood mixed with the slightest hint of sick. Tecchou wholeheartedly ignored the utmost scrutiny of those the two passed. Eventually, only two pairs of eyes settled on him and the man in his arms as he pushed open the meeting room door. Mouths hung open, and Tecchou remained perplexed. Perhaps it was the fact that Tecchou’s hand was still bleeding, and he was actually growing faint in the head now. Or maybe it was the way that he and his opponent were both covered head to toe in blood. Possibly the way that Tecchou took up a disbanded mission. Endless opportunities.
Jouno lifted his head as he forced a smile, facing in Fukuchi’s general direction.
“Oh my god, hello movie man!” He cheered, offering a half-hearted wave, clearly just as drowsy as the man holding him.
Tecchou managed to crack a grin of his own, perhaps at Jouno’s comment, or because of the horrified expressions of disbelief he was offered so suddenly. It was impossible to tell.
“I completed the mission. I didn’t fail–” Tecchou managed, before his head finally spun into incomprehensiveness and he lurched backwards, the two men collapsing into a mutually unconscious heap on the floor.
“Commander, ‘you sure they’re suited to be partners? Not that I don’t trust your judgement! They just seem, well. Peculiar.”
“They’ll compliment each other just fine. I’m sure of it.” Fukuchi sat back in his seat, left to scrutinise the puddle of blood the pair had created.